Like White Wine
by Arhtea
Summary: In which Harry gives dating advice, Ron is being obtuse, Snape deducts points and Hermione is like white wine.


**Author's note:**

 **Written for The Golden Snitch, Prompt of the day ((dialogue) "She is like white wine")**

 **Hogwarts, Hufflepuff**

 **Caution, this story was written at an unreasonable hour of the night :P**

 **Word Count: 724**

* * *

"I just don't understand Hermione sometimes!" Ron slumped into a chair and glared at his cauldron.

Harry sighed and sat down next to his best friend. "Look, Ron, mate, the thing is...you've got to know how to approach girls, alright. Let's take Hermione, right? She's like..." he bit his lip searching for an appropriate metaphor. "She is like white wine!"

Ron looked up at him, completely puzzled. "What, you mean goes well with fish?"

Harry blinked a few times. He should probably have seen the food association coming, in hindsight. "What? No, I don't mean Hermione goes well with fish, why would I ever-?" He sighed. "No I mean what I said. Hermione is like white wine as in-"

"Ages well? I know she'll age well, she is beautiful, but how the bloody hell will that help me in asking her out? I might not understand girls, but even I know mentioning their age is a sensitive issue!"

"So don't tell her she'll age well. That's not remotely my point."

Ron shook his head in confusion. "Then what do you mean with all this white wine nonsense?"

Harry frowned, wondering how to get the conversation back on track and shook his head. "I mean she is like wine in a good way."

"Yeah, but aging well is a good way to be like wine. I mean, I don't want to marry someone who'll turn into an old crone!" Ron mused, imagining for one terrifying moment a witch illustration from a muggle storybook. If muggles thought that was how witches aged, was it any wonder they were afraid?

"Though I suppose there are other nice things about wine too. Like, it's very tasty." he ran his finger along the edge of the cauldron and smiled, "I suppose Hermione might be very tasty too-„

"Oh dear Merlin, no. Please no." Harry shook his head trying to get the thought of his two best friends snogging out of it. "Forget about the wine, the wine is not going to help here." He bit his lip and glanced around the room, looking for someone or something to help. Alas he was alone in his predicament, as the potions class was still empty save for a few Slytherins at the back of the room, who were seemingly very uninterested.

"Look, I only meant that you have to appreciate Hermione, okay? Understand her worth and show that you know she is brilliant. Girls like that sort of thing!"

Ron shrugged. "I suppose but I still don't understand the wine part. I mean, just because the label says white wine, is no guarantee of it being good, right? Charlie and Bill once nicked a bottle that tasted like sewage. Just cause it is wine, doesn't mean it is worth a damn thing, right."

Harry took a deep and careful breath, then shook his head. "Look, Ron, you get what I mean. Let's just leave it, right?"

"Yeah but, have you tried the wine they serve at Hogshead? I mean, if I said Hermione was like that, she'd probably hex me to oblivion. And then of course there are the really expensive wines. I mean, I know she's smart and pretty but is she really like a priceless vintage? I mean, be reasonable here-„

"ENOUGH ABOUT THE BLOODY WINE!"

"Five points from Gryffindor for shouting in a classroom!" stated the silky voice of Snape who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere just when Harry had lost his patience. The boy glared at the potion master, then sat down with a huff only to see a wide grin across Ron's face. He frowned, then noticed Hermione, who was standing a few feet away and now moved closer to them.

"Alright, Ron, I'll go with you to Hogsmeade." She confirmed with a somewhat begrudging smile, then took her seat.

Harry sent a questioning glare towards Ron, who shrugged. "She said she'd go on a date with me if I got you to blow up before class started. For some reason she thought it'd be hard...Sorry, mate."

Harry arched an eyebrow. "So we're making bets on me losing my temper then?"

"Well, it's got to be useful for something else apart from pissing off Umbridge, eh?"

Harry grumbled and buried his head in his hands swearing never again to help his friends get a date.


End file.
